Tongue Tied
by CaribbeanAzure
Summary: Little Guy's first taste of outlaws… Follows my AU…


_Tongue Tied_

Guy dropped the last foot from the tall trellis and glanced around to make sure that he wasn't being watched. The night air was cool against his exertion flushed cheeks, not that the chill stopped Guy from sneaking off into the forest. His Father, Lord Roger, had been especially hard on him that day and Guy felt like rebelling. Though he had survived the long day of study, Guy desperately needed some time to himself where he could be free. Free: without rules, assignments, stipulations, or commands.

There was so sign that anyone in the household had heard him descend the trellis from his room and Guy stealthfully crept from the house to the forest. Once at his destination Guy began to walk in a normal fashion, un-hunching his shoulders and standing upright. All he wanted to do was walk, leave his mundane existence and feel the fresh air of the world. He longed, no longed was to relaxed of a word, he_ wished_ for some excitement, some adventure. Guy Crispin breathed in deeply as he ambled through the trees, it was oddly calming and soothed his tattered soul.

It had been a hard month right from the start. A series of violent crimes had occurred leaving several young girls, maids no longer. Ghislaine had refused to let either of her children out for fear that some ill would befall them. The offender had been captured to the eternal gratuity of Isabella (who couldn't stand to be cooped up with Guy a moment longer) and Guy (who thought that the feeling was mutual).

It didn't take long, however, for the convict to escape and flee to unknown regions. The entire shire was in an uproar: Lords and Ladies keeping too firm a grasp on their daughters, while peasants still had to send their's alone to market. The latter, Guy couldn't see, though he didn't know they couldn't afford to leave their daughters at home. To Guy's knowledge they complained that they didn't have enough food to feed their families and yet with insensible minds sent their girls to an uncertain fate to possibly add to the number of mouths. In turn it would cause that daughter, new babe or not, to be a burden to her family - for no man would want a tarnished woman. Guy sighed, a bit of forethought could prevent numerous problems…

It was quite a while before Guy realized how far he had actually gone but Guy wasn't worried, he still had plenty of time to get back home before his Father or Mother noticed his absence. Slowly the young Lord turned and began to walk back in the direction of his manor. He was in no rush, as a lad he had nothing to fear from the dark or the woods.

Walking over a small knoll thick with leaves and twigs, Guy was smiling inwardly at his excursion. It was then that the leaves started to slide, causing him to tumble down with them. A yelp caught in Guy's throat as he fell, rolling and getting covered in debris. As he hit the bottom of the hill, the black haired lad instinctively jumped up and began to brush off his clothes - nothing major was damaged, only a few sticks and leaves in his locks.

Finishing his dusting, Guy looked up. He took two steps back towards the knoll, his face ashen and his blood running cold. For, directly in front of him were three men, in various forms of surprise, staring at him…

Without a second thought, Guy bolted for the hill, slipping and sliding trying to run back up. He didn't get far before he felt a large hand on his shoulder, jerking him backwards. His eyes were darting and his breath was heaving as he looked at the trio of men. The one holding him had shoulder length blond hair and deep green eyes that shown bright even in the dim fire light. The next's hair was short cropped and brown, doing nothing to hide an ugly pockmarked face. The third was in possession of graying hair that fell in scraggily clumps down the back of his neck.

Guy was shaken out of his observations by the hand of the blond that was still gripping his thin shoulder. Inwardly the lad shrunk back as the forest dweller sneered, "Well, well, well, look what we have here. A little pup sniffing around. Smell anything interesting, pup?"

The graying man stood shakily from where he hunched by the fire, "We have to go! We have to go! 'Ell turn us in! 'Eh knows where-"

"Shut up old man!" the blond said, running a hand through his long locks pushing them out of his eyes. The man was oddly calm and had a blasé inclination to his voice as he gripped the young intruder. "What's your name boy?"

Guy stood, mouth firmly shut, eyes wide and fixated on his captor. He was suddenly shook yet again, a screaming voice rang in his ears, 'Answer me!' Guy clamped his eyes shut and waited, for what he didn't know.

His captor made a partially opened mouth expression of contempt and disgust, raising his eyes and saying with a tone of deadly persuasion, "Tell me, pup." Guy's silence did nothing to improve the ambiance.

The blond bent down on one knee to be more level with Guy, he reached into a small satchel, withdrawing an undersized straight blade. Guy felt cold metal on his neck, his blood congealing in his veins. "Now, pup, would be the best time to tell me."

The eleven year old opened his mouth but no sound came out, not even a squeak. It was around this time that his captor became fed up, placing a hand on Guy's back and moving the blade to his stomach. The lad's mouth was agape in fear and he felt incapable of expressing himself. A new voice spoke up just as the blond was about to fulfill his unsightly deed, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Fabian."

Knife still pinioned, ready to strike, the blond Fabian glared at the speaker, "And why not?"

The pockmarked man replied, "Because we could use him."

_For what? _Guy's mind screamed.

Fabian spoke Guy's unsaid quriey, eliciting a sigh from the tawny headed man, "Just because you are fresh out of society, Fabian, doesn't mean that you are qualified to make all the decisions. This, here, is Lord Roger's boy."

A broad grin spread over Fabian's features, "Well, we might have use for you yet. Tie him up Warin."

Guy felt his arms snatched backwards as the brown haired man took hold of him. He was led over to a tree and forced to sit, awaiting his fate. Guy shut his eyes when he felt the rope begin to encircle himself and the tree, _Please just let this be a bad dream._ But upon opening his eyes, he saw it was as real as any hell.

* * *

><p>For the next hour, Guy Crispin observed his captors and their camp. The latter was nothing special, a small fire set near a gathering of trees, a kettle placed over the flames was keeping something warm, blankets tossed haphazardly by the fire, and he, himself, was the newest part of the décor. The blond Fabian approached with a flask and bent down to Guy's diminished level. He held the animal skin well above his head, tilting the second back and pouring the clear liquid into his mouth. Guy gulped, he hadn't realized how dry his mouth had become.<p>

"Drink, pup?" the man said, both hands on his knees the flask slowly squeezing water out - each drip making Guy's throat parch all over again. The youth nodded his head almost too hastily. When the cool water ran into Guy's mouth, he instantly regretted his action. The feeling of being beholden to this monster was almost unbearable. Guy had figured for quite some time that this was the escaped criminal that the entire shire was searching for, the lad could feel an almost indefinable evil surrounding the man, in every way about him.

Guy's thoughts were broken when a loud crash sounded by the fire, the kettle had been overturned and the older man was prancing about and singing a homespun ditty, "A pence for your thoughts, a schilling for some bread," he pointed to Guy, " and when 'eh goes into the pot - 'ell be dead!"

Guy's eyes grew wide, and his heart stopped. Fabian laughed at Guy's state of fright, "Don't worry. He was held under water too long during his dunking and was addled. He's almost harmless - almost."

The young Lord's mouth desiccated again, he gulped, "You mean he's a witch?"

"Could be," Fabian grinned, relishing Guy's apparent discomfort. "_Something_ helped him survive. And you know that the devil is rather fond of what is his own. Surely God would have been much kinder and let him drown." The last sentence was said more thoughtfully than the others had been.

Feeling every beat of his heart Guy remembered all the horror stories about witches his cousin had told him. Ancient superstitions that were engrained into his mind formed a tight fear over and around his chest. Unfortunately it was around this time, though his breath was short and quick from the fear rushing through his mind, Guy's sense of noblesse oblige kicked in. "How can you speak about God?" he spat, locking eyes with the amoral perpetrator.

"What? Even the pagans have a god. How different do you think I am from you?"

"Far different! You're a heartless villain and-" Guy felt and heard the crack that resonated against his jaw.

"Now, either let that teach you to be quiet or I'll cut the tip of your tongue off, if you're lucky," Fabian brandished the minute sized knife in Guy's face before stalking off to the fire.

Scratching at one of the old indents in his face, Warin smirked, "Letting him get the better of you?"

"Does he look like he got the better of me? Of course not. I bet Roger will pay a pretty pound or so for his only son."

Leaning up against a tree, Warin said disinterestedly, "May be his only, but not hers."

Cocking a brow, the blond asked, "And what does that mean?"

Warin shrugged his shoulders, "Rumors abound. And that promiscuous French _Lady_ has a few tarnishing her honor."

Guy blinked a few times as if gathering his thoughts and then the enormity of what they were insinuating hit him like a staff. He struggled against his bonds, "You despicable wolf-heads! When my Father comes for me, I hope you hang! Don't you ever, ever say anything about my Mother again!" The youth could feel the stinging hot tears threaten to spill, he shook his head violently to force them into submission. He wasn't about to cry in front of these men.

Taking the outburst in perfect stride, Fabian called over to Guy, "Wolf-heads is such a derogatory term. We tend to think of ourselves as Freelance Entrepreneurs."

"You're outlaws, that's what you are!" Guy hollered right back, damning the consequences.

Only when Guy's main tormenter began to approach, did the boy think better of his actions. He squirmed, wanting to crawl further backwards into the tree's trunk. Fabian bent down, making sure that Guy saw his blade before grabbing his cheeks and squeezing. The lad although he tried his hardest was no match for the man's strength. Expecting far worse, Guy was strangely relived when only the end of his tongue was nicked.

Wiping the bloody blade on Guy's shirt, Fabian spoke, "Now as you sit there spitting blood and hurting each time you use your tongue, ask yourself this question, 'Is it worth opening my mouth again?'" The outlaw sauntered back over to the fire and laid the knife down by his blanket. Guy shot a glare at him and flared his nostrils in the early morning light - the dark having begun to depart swiftly. Guy sat back and ignored the dull throb of his tongue, _I wonder when my parents will notice I'm gone? Why did I want an adventure?_

* * *

><p>"Where is that boy?" Roger strummed impatiently on the table as the maid began to serve their meal. Ghislaine looked to Guy's empty chair, "He is probably still asleep. I will go get him."<p>

"No," Roger said determinedly, "I'll go. He needs to learn better discipline." Isabella sat smirking - Guy was in trouble and she was going to watch the festivities.

Roger took the stairs two at a time, "Guy!" No answer. "Guy Crispin," Roger called again, _that_ should get his attention. Growling at the lack of response, Roger promptly opened the door to Guy's room. The bed had been slept in but there was no boy to be found. Believing Guy to be playing him for the fool, Roger angrily dropped to the ground and looked under the bed - expecting to find his wayward son. Still no Guy. After a few more minutes of search the Lord stiffly went down the steps, "He's not there."

"What?" Ghislaine said, pushing her chair back in one fluid motion - standing and gaping at Roger. "He has to be there. Where else would he be?"

Roger sat down defeated, "All I know is that he is not in his room and when I get hold of him he is going to want to become a monk."

"Rogie, surely he can't be far. Come I will help, we will find him together."

Roger sighed, "When we find him, I am going to shove these cold eggs down his gullet."

Two hours passed by, Ghislaine was frantic after the first hour - and Roger was beginning to join her. "His window was open. Could he have climbed out? Ran away?"

"Why would Guy want to run away?" Ghislaine sobbed, though her face was already tear streaked.

"I don't know," her husband mouthed. He coughed, clearing his voice, "I'll have my horse saddled."

"I'm going with you." A nod was the only reply the noblewoman received.

Fortunately Roger did not go without reinforcement. He gathered a menagerie of villagers and several of his tenant knights, and the troop began a quest into the forest.

* * *

><p>Guy's arms hurt from being pinioned to his sides for so long, not to mention the pain in his mouth. He tried to detach himself from his situation, but knew that wouldn't help him escape. So he kept his mouth shut and eyes wide open for any opportunity. He felt slightly more at ease, as Fabian had left to gather wood and Warin was ignoring him and keeping the old man from paying him any heed.<p>

In a split second Fabian burst through the undergrowth and over to Guy. He firmly placed a dirty hand over the lad's mouth and a finger over his own lips, signaling quiet. "Lord Roger and a posse comitatus." He tore a piece of his shirt off and wrapped it around Guy's mouth. The young man gagged and choked on the cloth, praying that he wouldn't vomit - the stench of unwashed material was enough to turn the stomach of a skunk. He watched as the three of them huddled, talking about their plan - well two of them talked and the old man hopped from foot to foot in panic.

Warin approached and tugged the scrap out of Guy's mouth, "Scream."

Guy blinked up at the man, what was going on? Would they kill him if he did? Or if he didn't?

"I said scream. Scream for your Father - let him know where you are."

Fear took over and Guy called for Roger as loud as he could. Roger heard his son and the band hurried in that direction, Ghislaine in the lead. Grabbing onto his wife's bridle, Roger pulled her to a halt, "Wait, there's something the matter."

"Of course there is something the matter!" Ghislaine mocked angrily, "Guy could be hurt and you will not let me go to him!"

Roger cringed at her yelling protests. "Just wait a moment," he whispered. Summoning his voice the Lord called out, not knowing what response he would get, "Who's there?"

Roger's worst fears were confirmed when a voice other than Guy's answered back, "We are! And we have your son!"

Ghislaine turned pale as Roger helped her off her horse and to the ground. He led her to some trees where the other men were already crouching, awaiting Roger's next words. Guy's parents bent down in the soft dirt and, looking through the leaves, could see their boy. The tightness in his chest caused Roger to pant, "What do you want?"

Knowing that they were being watched Fabian bowed, "We only want a reward for finding your son! See, we have kept him safe for you!"

"I know who you are and I do not reward outlaws!" Roger ground out, praying that staling for time would work - three of his men had already began to circle the camp.

"Rogie!" Ghislaine said startled, not understanding her husband's intentions. He motioned for her to keep quiet while he continued to play the unconcerned parent.

With a look of disbelief Guy's Mother stood shakily and slowly walked off while Roger was still talking. If he was going to fool around with Guy's life, she was going to save him… Daintily stepping through the leaves on the forest floor, Ghislaine approached her husband's horse and gently pulled the sword Roger had brought from its sheath on the saddle. With her new weapon at her side, she began to encroach on the camp.

Guy couldn't believe the things his Father was saying! Though Guy knew that his Father was often disappointed in him, he didn't think that Roger would just leave him for the wolves. He sat contemplating his situation, when a sudden flurry of activity caught his attention - his Mother.

The black haired Lady had lunged out of the undergrowth, sword swinging like the devil. Being untrained in proper sword conduct, Fabian quickly relived her of her blade. Twisting her hands behind her back and holding on tight, the repulsive man laughed heartily, "Well I do believe that the doe is better than the fawn! Let the pup go, we'll see how Lord Roger likes this…"

Warin furrowed his brow, "Wouldn't it be wise to keep both of them? The boy is already tied up - why not-"

"You heard what I said!"

The pockmarked man twitched his lip back into a snarl and undid Guy's ropes in one swift swipe of his sword - a might too close for comfort one might add. Feeling the sudden freedom, Guy bolted for the fire, stumbling to the ground next to the laid out sleeping blankets. Lord Roger ran a weary hand over his face, because of his son's clumsiness or his wife's willfulness he didn't know. What he did know was that he had a bigger problem on his hands.

"You," he pointed at one of the villagers, "Grab Guy as soon as he comes out. Keep a hold of him!" The assigned man shrewdly crept down to where the lad was sure to emerge. But - there was no Guy…

The eleven year old had doubled back to stalk behind the tree he had become so well acquainted with. He could see Fabian whisper something into his Mother's ear and she shivered as a result. Guy could feel his blood boil. He clutched at the small knife in his hands. Yes there was a method to his madness, that was why he fell - he grabbed Fabian's unguarded weapon. Guy drew his arm back into the throwing position, hurled it forwards and let go of the blade.

His aim was off, and missed the targeted area and barley embedded the knife into Fabian's unprepared arm. The ruthless man let out a yelp of surprise and let Ghislaine go. She bolted, though Fabian grabbed for her, having no idea that her child was still in immediate danger. Only Roger and Guy knew that…

Pulling the knife out of his own flesh, Fabian turned around violently, eyes seeking his attacker out. The outlaw spun around again when he heard Roger call out, 'Now!' The hardened man ducked instinctively, alas, his two companions weren't prepared for such - one too dumb the other unwatchful. Their bodies fell to the ground, the old man screaming his lungs out and Warin silent - killed instantly.

Seeing his young assailant, Fabian jumped to his feet and snatched at Guy. After several long armed attempts he had caught the sleeve of his shirt and wrestled the lad to the ground, pinning him with sheer willpower. He sat up on his knees and pinned Guy's hands over his head, "I'm going to kill you!" The lad jerked away from the spittle issuing from the man's mouth.

Guy heard muffled commands as he struggled: 'Shoot' - 'No, you'll hit Guy' - 'Give it to me.' His captor was trying to reach behind him and find the sword his Mother dropped. Guy didn't care, he felt removed from the situation, all that mattered was that his Mother was safe - that much he had been able to do.

Fabian twisted more to reach the sword, he was going to kill this pup… In one last big turn the man moved just enough out of the way. Guy heard the _zing_ and saw Fabian's wild eyes strangely calm. The large man looked downwards to the arrow embedded in his chest, he had been shot in the back and the tip had gone all the way through.

Fabian fell over, his hands clutching at the arrow's tip, getting covered in his own blood. He coughed and turned to Guy one last time, still managing to glare at the cause of all his problems, before letting the darkness overtake him.

The youth, having never been this close to death in his life, gaped at the still warm corps. The realization took hold of him and his body wracked with heaving coughs, he retched. It took but a moment for him to feel a set of arms wrap around his body. Guy jumped, thinking for a split instant that it might be Fabian back from the dead in a last ditch effort to murder him. When he looked, though, he saw it was his Father.

There was no question that Guy and Roger were not close, they fought like cats and dogs. Ghislaine said Roger was so demanding with Guy because his own Father had been hard on him, this was of little consolation to the eleven year old. But, at this moment, just after near disaster, Guy grabbed hold of his Father and wouldn't let go. He felt Roger pull back slightly, unsure of what to make of the situation - then he gripped his son, feeling all his paternal affection go out in that hold.

It didn't last long, but for the time it did, Father and son felt as close as they had ever been or ever could be. Roger broke the hold first and helped Guy to his feet, guiding him away from the strewn bodies. The Lord handed his son over to Ghislaine, who gripped him and flatly refused to let him go. Roger broke that embrace as well, claiming that Guy was going to ride on the back of his horse with him.

That night when the excitement of the day had subsided Roger spoke to Guy, "What have you learned from this?" Despite earlier predictions and threats, his Father didn't have the heart or strength to punish the boy or his wife for that matter…

Guy Crispin looked at his Father and said completely serious, making sure to delicately use his tongue - that he hadn't shown his Mother yet, "Never wish for adventure."

"You mean after all this, you sit without a word to say about the trouble you caused?" Roger was getting rather perturbed with Guy's lack of conversation. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

Guy said thoughtfully, "No, Father. The wolf-head's knife took care of that."

"What?" Roger barked. "Let me see." Guy stared blankly. "Give me your tongue - or what's left of it that is."

"Rogie!"

"Shh, he's fine. He's talking. Stick out your tongue and let me see, Guy."

Guy felt an queerly fulfilling sensation at following his Father's command…

* * *

><p><em>AN Well this is the longest story that I have written yet. I was supposed to be writing something else but you know - the best laid plans of mice and men… Anyway, leave a review if you like! I think, personally, that this is my favorite out of anything I have written yet! _


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